


Age of Incandescence

by Kokoai



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, Seraph Sorey, Smut, Tainted Mikleo, for like one paragraph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13811922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kokoai/pseuds/Kokoai
Summary: Eternity was nothing more than everyday life to a Seraph. Centuries passing in the blink of an eye. Perhaps this is why Seraphim never grow particularly attached to humans. Mikleo had waited seven centuries and doubted how much longer he had until his body was fully encased in scales.





	Age of Incandescence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KidoTaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KidoTaka/gifts).



> This long one shot comes as a birthday gift to a very loved friend, who I hope enjoys this thing they inspired.

For seraphim, one hundred years could pass like a night in a bar. Decades slipping by in the blink of an eye. Farewells in the form of, ‘see you next century’ spoken the same as humans that would reunite the next day. Some seraphim would even spend centuries sleeping simply because they could, meanwhile others wished they could sleep at all.

Sleepless nights, full of tossing and turning and eventually forsaking the entire endeavor had become a large part of Mikleo’s life. He’d traversed all of Glenwood and had seen every ruin that wouldn’t instantly hellionize him. Two centuries was all it had taken.

Two more centuries, and there was a series of Celestial Records.

One more century and the continent recognized him as a Grand Seraph.

Two centuries since, he’d spent isolated. Seraphim shifting to a life of solitude wasn’t abnormal, more so for ones like Mikleo who had grieved heavily.

Glenwood had changed, the land itself radiated purity, seraphim and humans were coexisting more than ever, Maotelus and the other Lords actively maintained order, and Shepherd’s were still born to handle smaller tasks. However, in seven centuries, the light behind Camlann remained. A towering beacon and reminder to all Shepherd’s of their predecessor that had ushered in this era of peace.

Elysia held a festival of honor every year around the crater. A festival that doubled as time of communication. Maotelus had awoken only three centuries after Heldalf had been vanquished, but Sorey had chosen to remain until the land was more pure.

Mikleo never stopped supporting Sorey’s decisions, but he couldn’t say it was without remorse. Seven centuries of waiting had taken their toll. He held no doubt that once Sorey did awaken, he would know it. Holding onto that believe, he left Elysia for the northern continent. None had questioned his claims of wanting to be surrounded by his element; both ocean and never ending snow certainly energized him in a way no other location could, however, in actuality, he desired as much distance from Sorey as possible.

Two hundred years in this bitter, cold, and harsh environment had managed to fog his memories. Most days he struggled to remember the basics like Sorey’s hair or eye color, but he still remembered _Sorey_. 

He groaned while his back arched as his arms extended above his head. A hand came over his mouth as he yawned and shook out his cramping wings. Curling into a tight ball never provided any comfort, yet he always ended up like that. A low rumble rolled past his lips, he’d been so close to sleep for once but now there was something in his domain. They were on the edge, but there nonetheless.

A foot of snow had built up around his sleeping spot, and managed to completely bury his clothing. With a heavy groan he threw a hand forward. Every speck of snow within ten feet of him vanished, and there mere inches from him he found the mess of six capes he called clothing. He hated how fabric rubbed against his scales, yet he still kept this one outfit around for nothing more than aesthetic for the rare times he had visitors. After dressing, he took in a deep breath, shut his eyes and focused on his domain.

There was a lone figure, though strangely, he couldn’t figure out if they were human, seraph, or hellion. They were slow moving, which gave Mikleo some relief as he brought his hands up to fix his disheveled hair. To tame his beastly hair was a challenge on it’s own, even more so without being able to see it. He supposed he could use the waters nearby to double check, although he hadn’t actually seen himself in a long time.

His internal debate ceased when a particularly stubborn lock of hair refused to sit flat around one horn. Icicles shot from his mouth as he snarled. All he wanted was a year of sleep. Whoever had disturbed this attempt would pay.

He threw himself down at the water’s edge, and glared at the reflective surface for the few moments required to project himself. Shimmering blue-silver iridescent scale spanned the length of his neck and slowly began to cup his cheeks. The way they layered and protruded from his jawline somehow made him look older. Had his eyelashes always been this long? Or his ears this pointy? He’d felt the fangs growing in so that was only a moment to take in how they curved over his icy blue lips. Above all else, what caught his attention was his nose. It was becoming flatter, the bridge had grown wider as well. Visibly, he didn’t seem to have a snout but he wagered in another decade or so. The image rippled as he growled. So many of his younger years wasted on maintaining an immaculate appearance and here he sat a disgusting shell of his former beauty.

Though he supposed all things considered, this could be a blessing. Anyone who looked at him would surely flee. He poked a claw at his stomach. He could use the exercise. What sort of reputation would he get being an overweight dragon? Granted, he knew a dragon wouldn’t care about their appearance, but he’d be damned to not be immaculate leading up to it.

Freezing wind blew around him, which normally would go unnoticed, but there was something new. The air was warmer, and tasted like ash. It spread like searing pinpricks over both flesh and scale. This was reminiscent of when Lailah had tried to burn the malevolence out of him.

With that thought, Mikleo could finally identify the intruder. A newborn seraph. A reborn human who hadn’t come to terms with their new life yet. That had his blood boiling. All these pathetic unknown humans blessed with eternity, and for what? What had any of them done to earn it?

Mikleo’s heart pounded against his ribs and rattled his entire body. His stomach gurgled; he hadn’t devoured a seraph in ages. This seraph was close now, prompting him to summon his staff and simply wait for the unsuspecting child. He ran his tongue across his lips as the scent hit him. Every step they took he heard the snow crunching. Only a few more seconds.

Every sound ceased. Every muscle tensed. Every sensation vanished.

Centuries of effort wasted when he knew that face like the ground he stood on. Even with the fiery red tips at the end of shoulder length brunette hair, even with the specks of orange in those green eyes, even with the flames that flickered around him, there wasn’t a doubt in Mikleo’s mind.

“S-Sor…” he hadn’t spoken that name in centuries. He hadn’t spoken in decades.

“Mikleo… I’m back.” There was that smile that haunted Mikleo’s nightmares. That smile that had almost solely been the reason he couldn’t forget Sorey. His staff clattered to the ground and he took a step back.

“This… You can’t be here!” His screech echoed through the cliffs.

“I’m sorry. I left you alone for so long…” Sorey’s head dipped, but those eyes never left Mikleo.

“Dammit. This is worse than seeing myself.” Mikleo growled into his hands.

Seeing himself was excruciating enough, but seeing an illusion of _him_ was worse. He hadn’t thought about his next action, nor did he back peddle as claws pierced skin. One claw slid beneath his brow bone and dug into the socket. The physical pain tickled compared to the emotional pain. 

Suddenly, Mikleo’s back cracked against ground. His hands had been pinned beside him, and there was a weight on his chest. His gaze was parallel with the lake’s surface. He had to turn his head to see the seraph atop him. This close, Mikleo could feel the other’s body heat, could hear the blood racing, could feel warm breath spreading over his scales. He found himself drawn to chapped and quivering lips.

“I… I gave up… they’ve thrown so many fakes of you at me…” his voice cracked. He didn’t want to speak, but he knew Sorey’s couldn’t. Their gazes met for only a moment before Sorey collapsed. His hands released Mikleo’s to instead clutch Mikleo’s shoulder and hip.

Warmth soaked into Mikleo’s clothing. His entire body was heating up. He should have been roaring from pain, but instead he sat still, waiting to wake up. At least he hadn’t killed Sorey this time. Though Lailah was certainly getting better with the solidity. He allowed himself one moment to breath, a moment that brought mostly the scent of ash, but there was a faint undertone of vanilla. _How did Lailah know that detail?_

“Mik… my Celestial Record.” Mikleo recoiled at those words, as fragmented as they were. He recoiled so much so he pushed Sorey back, scrutinizing every minute detail. Sorey’s eyes were as warm as his smile. Even with the tears staining his cheeks, he was radiant. Sorey nodded, and then Mikleo couldn’t hold back the tears. Those words, that name, was something only they knew. A code set up ever since they first encountered Symonne’s illusions.

When he had last cried, he didn’t know. Whether he could cry since losing his purity he never knew. Sobs wracked everything from head to toe to wing tips. Patches of skin stung where new scales formed. His eye continued to bleed, but through the waterworks of his other eye, he could still see Sorey smiling. Smaller now, but there nonetheless.

“Mikleo—”

“You shouldn’t see me like this.” He croaked. Sorey slid off Mikleo, and Mikleo hoped this was Sorey leaving. For as much as it would hurt, there was no reason Mikleo could think for Sorey staying with a hellion. Just as his body was ready to collapse in on itself and let malevolence consume him, fingers slid between his own.

“Remember when you told me your name?” Sorey said. Mikleo sniffled, unable to find words.

“And then Gramps got mad because you weren’t supposed to tell anyone, not even me?” Sorey chuckled “But that night we sat under the stars, and do you remember what I said?” Only now did he look at Mikleo.

Mikleo had never forgotten. There was a pause before they spoke in unison,

“If knowing your name means standing beside you through the best and the worst, then I want to be the only one you tell.”

For the first time since Sorey slept, Mikleo smiled genuinely. Although he was sure it looked wrong from Sorey’s view.

“Yeah and then you went off and became the Shepherd and we had to tell more people.” Mikleo said.  
“Well I was the one to tell them so you technically never told anyone.” Sorey grinned. Mikleo almost laughed, but the starting motions lead to him coughing instead.

“Will you be okay?” Sorey asked with a loose motion towards Mikleo’s left eye.

“Yeah. It’s healing on it’s own. But I don’t think I’ll get vision back.”

“What if we get you back—”

“Sorey. Look at me. I can’t go back. They’ve all left me alone for a reason. How you even made it here…” Mikleo pushed himself to sit up. He looked towards the pathway Sorey had come from. Last he knew Edna had blocked it off.

“Lailah didn’t want me too. Actually, everyone told me not to. Except Zaveid.”

“Heh, I Should’ve known.” Zaveid had been the first to console him, and the first to try breaking Mikleo’s malevolence. The last thing he remembered Zaveid saying to him was something about having to face Sorey one day.

“Sorey…”

“I’m not leaving you again.”

“Look at me! I’m a hellion, on my way to being a dragon. Why would you stay with someone this hideous?” Mikleo had shot to his feet. His cape tails and hair flowed around him in a way that exuded grace and serenity more than searing rage.

Mikleo flapped his wings. Sorey bit his lip.

“You’ve always been beautiful, you still are. Even if… I don’t care how you look, so long as I can be with _you_.” 

Mikleo turned on his heels and flared his wings. He could be the one to leave.

“You couldn’t possibly love me like this.” Mikleo muttered. He hadn’t thought Sorey would hear, but then he was spun around.

“I came all this way to find you. I’ve never stopped loving you.” Sorey’s voice had almost squeaked.

“Do you even hear yourself? Saying you’ll love a dragon.” Mikleo glared at Sorey’s glossy eyes.

“Do you know what a seraphic rebirth needs?”

“What does—”

“Maotelus needed the strongest emotion in me to recreate me, and when I had to think of something that made me feel that, I thought of you.”

“But you were thinking of the old me. Not… not this.” Mikleo shook his wings while he thumbed one of his horns.

Sorey hands were still on Mikleo’s shoulders, but now one slid up his neck and along his jaw. He’d twitch when he passed over a particularly protruding scale, yet Mikleo let him continue. He even let the two fingers under his chin lift his head. Sorey’s eyes were softer and brighter than before. His cheeks had a red tint that Mikleo did remember being there moments ago.

“The old you was all I knew then. But right now, I’m thinking about the you right here. The you that I still want to kiss for real.”

“Like you could actually kiss me.” Mikleo dropped his gaze.

“If you allow me to.”

“You know I’ll ruin you.”

“If it means being by your side again.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot waiting to kiss you.”

“I want you doing more than that.”

“Tell me when to stop.” Their lips barely touched when Sorey stopped, looking for any last opposition. Impatience maxed, Mikleo threw a hand on the back of Sorey’s head and pulled him in. Warmth rushed through Mikleo, and whether it was Sorey’s element or a result from finally feeling his lips, Mikleo didn’t know or care. The only thing that mattered was this moment with Sorey’s lips on his own instead of his cheek like so many years ago. So many years dreaming, attempting to find replacements, and nothing could compare to this.

Their lips moved out of sync at first. Sorey’s hands shook as they traveled down to Mikleo’s waist. Mikleo tugged on Sorey’s collar as he stepped back, and lead Sorey like that until they hit a mountain side.

A younger Sorey would have been slow and hesitant to progress, but this Sorey had already pushed Mikleo’s shirts up. Only when all the fabric was bunched around Mikleo’s neck did they break apart. While Sorey stripped his own shirt, Mikleo tucked his wings flat against his back. He drug one claw over Sorey’s chest, and got as far as flicking at a nipple before Sorey pinned both hands above his head. Mikleo tried to lean forward for a kiss but Sorey went for Mikleo’s neck. His tongue traced along the edge of scales, and lords Mikleo couldn’t have imagined that feeling so good.

“S-sorey…” The responding hum against his collarbone sent shivers down his spine.

“Will you…” Mikleo wasn’t usually flustered in this situation, but he’d never actually asked any previous partners to do this “I know it’s weird so you don’t have to…”

“Will make you feel good?” Sorey pulled away from a section of skin that was now covered in small pink marks.

“Yeah.” Mikleo let out a held breath.

“Then just tell me what to do.” His voice was so warm Mikleo swore he was coming undone. He tilted his head enough to put one horn into Sorey’s focus.

“Stroke it…” Sorey chuckled at the simple request. Mikleo was ready for rejection but before he could pull his head back, he felt two fingers wrap around the base of his horn.

“Go slow so you don’t cut yourself— a-ah…” Sorey’s hand hadn’t even moved an inch and Mikleo panted. Every movement had Mikleo moaning louder and louder, and his voice broke when Sorey circled around the tip. Mikleo itched to grab onto any part of Sorey, but his hands were still pinned, leaving him to squirm as Sorey continued to move along his horn.

Mikleo had to pull his head back, or else he would finish far too soon. Sorey’s hand fell and hooked onto Mikleo’s waistband. There was a quick kiss before their foreheads rested together.

“Mikleo…” Their moans mixed when both pushed their hips together nearly at the same time.

“You told me to tell you when to stop.”

“I know, it’s not that. I just… you know I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Mikleo smirked, and gave Sorey a chaste kiss before pulling against Sorey’s hands, who finally let them go. Mikleo was quick to undo and kick off his pants, and almost laughed at how quick Sorey flushed.

“You’ve seen it all before.” Mikleo commented as he set himself back against the wall.

“It’s… been a while. And you’re, um, bigger.” Sorey swallowed hard. Mikleo took one of Sorey’s hands and pressed it against his cock.

“Why don’t you get a feel for how much bigger? Copy what you did with my horn.” Sorey gulped, his hand much slower to encircle this. Even though Sorey’s pace was slow, it felt fast for Mikleo. He knew he liked things fast and rough, but this was Sorey. Things with him were never like they were with anyone else. Not even time could change that it seemed.

Mikleo bucked his hips, setting the pace he wanted that Sorey would then match. At this point, Mikleo restrained his own orgasm, hellbent on lasting as long as possible. He clutched Sorey’s shoulders, as that became harder and harder to manage.

All too soon, Sorey’s motions stopped, and Mikleo let out a needy whimper.

“You’re used to more than this.” Sorey said.

“Why does that matter _now_?” Mikleo panted. He slept with a number of seraphim and even some humans, but he’d only been going through the motions with them, looking for something to exhaust him. There was never any love behind it. 

“Are you really going to be satisfied with me then?” At that, Mikleo coiled his legs around Sorey, effectively pinning their groins together.

“You’ve got me this hard and so close to the quickest orgasm of my life. There’s no way I won’t be satisfied.”

“You’ve grown so much without me though. Is this really okay?” Mikleo fought back every urge to buck his hips and beg.

“We can stop if you want.” Internally Mikleo growled. He wanted this, but for as tainted as he’d become, his concern for Sorey hadn’t diminished.

“I don’t want our first time to be disappointing.”

“Was our first time armatizing disappointing?”

“Wha- I mean no but what—”

“Then why would the first time I get to have you inside me be any different?” Sorey wanted to argue, he was trying to find the words, but Mikleo had had enough talking. His hands framed Sorey’s face and pulled him in for a deep kiss. The motion had their erections rubbing together, adding both their moans to the brief tongue swirling.

Sorey pulled back, doubt still on his face. Mikleo sighed before tightening his grip around Sorey’s waist.

“You have me naked against a wall, about ready to beg for you to take me.”

“Should we skip to that then?” How he could sound so innocent at all baffled Mikleo.

“Don’t make me actually beg.”

“You kind of are already.”

“Just shut up and fuck me.” Sorey went red again, but carefully unwound Mikleo’s legs so that he could undo his pants.

“We need… lube or something right?” Sorey said it as easily as he would an archaeological characteristic.

“Can you still hold me up?” Sorey nodded and shortly after Mikleo had his legs around Sorey’s waist again, but moved one to sit on his shoulder instead. He kept one hand on Sorey’s other shoulder as a means of keeping steady while his other hand went to his inner thigh. Along with his exhale came a cold chill, and a sudden appearance of water over his hand. As easy as breathing, he molded the water into a loose tentacle shape. He shifted his legs to get them as wide as he could, and only now did he notice the amount of intrigue on Sorey’s face.

No matter how many times Mikleo had done this, he always dug into himself at the initial feeling of being entered. Usually this was nothing more than motions needed before he could feel any semblance of pleasure, but with Sorey watching him now there was at least something to be gained. Though Mikleo was incredibly aware of how close Sorey’s cock was. There was a good chance Mikleo hadn’t done as much prep as he should have, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He shifted himself until he was lined up with Sorey, and simply nodded after their eyes met.

Sorey adjusted his grip on Mikleo’s hips and then pushed in no more than an inch at first. With every earth shaking moan from Mikleo, Sorey slid in more, until he was completely buried.

Mikleo needed the moment just as much as Sorey to just _feel_. Mikleo wasn’t the only one who had gotten bigger. Mikleo had experienced larger, but no one had held him this lovingly, or taken so much time to read his body before moving even the slightest.

Guilt started to settle in, along with regret that this was Sorey’s first time. That Sorey had come back to a tainted lover. Something must have shown on his face because Sorey leaned in to softly kiss below his left eye and then again over scales before barely rolling his hips. There was a quiet moment of eyes meeting. Although Sorey had always stressed verbal cues, there were times where that simply wasn’t needed between them. Where a look could be more solid consent than any word in any language. All Mikleo had to do was nod and Sorey started to thrust. He was slow with each one, but that let Mikleo feel the full force and depth of each and every time.

Mikleo tried to be mindful of his claws on Sorey’s back, but lords did he want to clutch Sorey as if life depended on it. He would no doubt need to mend Sorey’s clothes, but by the moans escaping Sorey, that didn’t seem to be a concern.

Sorey had started whimpering while each thrust grew more intense than the last. Soon, Sorey reached his climax, and Mikleo dug into his shoulder a moment later. They rested their foreheads together, panting breaths mixing. Mikleo managed to half open his eyes, enough to see a splatter on Sorey’s cheek, which he instinctively leaned forward and swiped away with his tongue.

“M-Mikleo…”

“Just cleaning up my mess.” Sorey flushed yet again, clearly wearing his element on his face, before gently lowering Mikleo. After only a split second, Mikleo’s legs buckled. He winced at the pain of his ass hitting the ground, but was laughing afterward. Sorey had knelled next to him but was perplexed now.

“I’ve never actually fallen like that. Oh hey, you’re bleeding a lot.” Mikleo had spotted a blood stain at the hem of Sorey’s shirt.

“It does sting a lot now actually. I guess I couldn’t feel it before.” Mikleo waved one hand in a circle and then patted the ground before him.

“Shit. I went way deeper than I should have.” Mikleo was looking at Sorey’s exposed back despite his shirt still being on, and covering the length of his back were at least four distinct claw marks bleeding profusely.

Mikleo pressed his hands against Sorey’s back, pushing his healing artes into the wounds. He hadn’t used these artes on anyone but himself in so long that it felt strange, but beneath that he couldn’t help but notice how much more muscular Sorey was. Although his body still looked hardly a day over seventeen, Mikleo could feel the differences. His shoulders were more defined, arms unable to hide beneath his blue button up, and his back muscles that were so defined Mikleo could trace them with sight alone. Mikleo briefly wondered how it’d feel to press himself against Sorey like this.

He shook his head and focused on healing, and also taking notice of the innate repair occurring in his own body. His left side was still blind. He wagered he could fully recover his eye but—

“Hey?” Sorey said. Mikleo jumped, not realizing how buried he’d been in his own thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Is your eye going to heal?” Seven hundred years and still in perfect sync. Mikleo sighed before moving one hand lower as if there was anything left to do.

“All the major damage has been handled. Well, it isn’t working, but I could fix it if I really wanted to.” Sorey’s only response was a small sound that Mikleo wouldn’t have heard if not for his heightened senses. “Dating a half blind dragon too much for you?” Mikleo managed to say it with a smirk, but truthfully he wondered if this would make him more hideous than Sorey would deal with.

“Of course not. I just wondered how much stronger you’d become while I was…” As he trailed off, Mikleo wrapped his arms around Sorey’s waist and pulled himself closer until he could rest on Sorey’s shoulder.

“Strong enough to control malevolence at least.” Mikleo said.

“You aren’t generating anymore.”

“True, but I’m beyond what the sacred flames could purify.” Mikleo slid away from Sorey and came to sit in front of him. “Can a former Shepherd, the one who purified Maotelus no less, really handle that?” He bit down on the inside of his cheek. This was the happiest he’d been in seven centuries, but it all felt too good to be true. Any moment could be the one Sorey chose to leave, and truthfully Mikleo would prefer it.

“You’re really convinced I can’t love you like this.” There wasn’t any questioning, merely a tone that Mikleo could only describe as sorrowful.

“I certainly can’t argue.” Mikleo turned his head, using his bangs to hide any sight of Sorey. His mind raced with all the possible responses Sorey could give. Some far-fetched, others more realistic.

Unexpectedly, warm fingers slide between his own and he looked up to a soft smile. Sorey was in his lap now, connected hands resting between their chests.

“If it takes an eternity, then an eternity I’ll spend here with you.”

Mikleo bumped their foreheads with a muttered, ‘idiot’ before pulling Sorey forward until they were laying. Hesitantly Mikleo curled his wings around them, which Sorey never reacted to.

That night would finally be a restful one.


End file.
